My Girlfriend's Boyfriends
by sienna27
Summary: Universe C: Story 6 of 6 - Hotch doesn't know his girlfriend is dating other men. Established H/P. Two Shot.
1. So Here's The Thing

**Author's Note**: Garcia drags Emily speed dating . . . again. If you've been following me for at least a few months, you probably saw that I already posted a variation on this idea in the fall. And at the time I said that originally I started writing the story with H/P already involved, and then I shifted it to just a Girl'verse offshoot before they got together. Well, here's the version where they're already involved. It is a totally different story, I promise :)

And this is Universe C! I know a lot of people have indicated a special fondness for Universe C, so hopefully those people will like this addition _to_ it :) Place this one just after "Drop a House on Her Aaron." And if you've never read this 'verse, I'd suggest reading them in order. They're all relatively short one/two shots.

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**Other Accounts:**

**_Twitter: ffsienna27 _**_– For story announcements, etc. If the alerts, (or the site), are down, this is a backup to find out what's going on for postings. There's also random randomness that is my brain._

_**Personal Website:** (alternate posting location. Open to all writers/fandoms)_

**_Tumblr: sienna27 _**_– More randomness from my brain._

_**Tumblr**: **cmfanficprompts **- As implied from the title, CM fanfic prompts and pics. Jointly run w/KaviLeighanna._

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**So Here's The Thing**

Speed dating!

Emily rolled her eyes. Of all the frigging crap things she'd ever agreed to do for a friend who was trying to get back at her boyfriend . . . Garcia and Kevin had had a fight earlier, and this was apparently Garcia's 'payback' . . . this seriously took the cake. Especially given that she already HAD a date for that night! And pretty much every damn night for the last two months . . . and the rest of her life really.

Hotch.

But unfortunately nobody could know that they were seeing each other. And if Emily had suddenly announced to Garcia that she couldn't attend her relatively harmless little one night speed dating event because she was in fact in a "committed" relationship with a man heretofore NEVER mentioned, well, that would obviously have created a whole volley of follow up questions for which Emily had absolutely no answers.

Or at least no answers that she was willing to give.

So she had been planning/hoping to just get through the hour or so of this crappy social event with a polite smile and minimal chitchat before shaking that off to go out with Penelope for a couple of cold beers and maybe some live music down at the Nine-Thirty Club. But now that they were actually about to enter the bar in Georgetown . . . the place where she was going to have to say "hey, how you doing? My name's Emily," to a half dozen strange men . . . she was having major third, fourth and FIFTH thoughts about the whole God damn thing!

Because now it felt like she was cheating on Hotch.

And given that she hadn't actually mentioned the whole 'temporarily dating other men' portion of the evening when she told him that she was going out with Garcia, she totally kind of was. And thinking about that point, Emily's teeth began to dig into her lower lip.

Ah, shit.

Seeing that Emily's enthusiasm was . . . again . . . beginning to fade for this guaranteed to be fun excursion, Garcia quickly grabbed her arm before Em turned tail and ran.

"Come on," she started tugging her forward, "it'll be fun! And it's only like an hour, maybe ninety minutes tops if they do any prelim stuff, and then we'll go to the club." She shot her a saucy grin, "and maybe we'll get lucky and be going there with some phone numbers of hot guys!"

It would totally serve Kevin right if she DID leave with a bucket full of hot guy phone numbers!

Big stupid jerk!

Feeling a wave of absolute panic at the thought of going home to Hotch with a stack of strange men's business cards in her pocket . . . she'd be the worst girlfriend EVER(!) . . . Emily started to violently shake her head as she yanked her arm away.

"No, wait, I can't," she stepped back, "I can't do this. I . . ."

She was just about to say that she was going home, when she saw that Garcia's face had completely fallen. And Emily realized that she couldn't disappoint her this way. It wasn't right to agree to plans for the evening . . . and unfortunately she HAD agreed . . . and then completely bail at the VERY last second.

That would be an incredibly shitty thing to do.

But of course on the OTHER hand . . . she reminded herself . . . she also couldn't 'cheat' on her sweet and loving boyfriend. A man who was at present most likely settled in on her/their couch with a freshly poured cold Guinness and a half dozen nightmarish case files.

Yeah, _that_ wasn't happening either.

But then suddenly a compromise popped into Emily's brain. Or . . . she started digging into her pocket . . . if not really a "compromise," at least a more honest and forthright approach to the evening. And once she'd yanked her phone out of her jacket, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"I just remembered that I have to call my mother about some plans we made for the weekend. So," she tipped her head towards the door, "you go on in, and I'll be along in a minute."

For a second Garcia just stared back at her . . . there was a very confused look on her face. And then she nodded slowly.

"Okay," she half shrugged, "uh, I guess I'll see you inside."

Though she'd just indicated that she was leaving, Penelope continued to stand there for a few seconds. And Emily knew that the other woman wanted to ask why the hell it was so important that she call her mother RIGHT that second, over plans happening forty eight hours later. And that would have been an _excellent_ question to ask!

And Emily wasn't quite sure what she would have said if she did. Given that she was already feeling really badly about her earlier lie of omission to Hotch, she didn't want to stack a COMPLETE fabrication to Garcia onto the existing guilt saturation for the night.

But fortunately she caught a break there.

Because after another few seconds of perplexed staring . . . Emily was just pretending like that was totally normal behavior . . . Garcia finally turned on the heel of her black polka dot pump, pushed her matching bag back on her shoulder, and walked up to the front door of The Dragon Wheel.

A second later, she'd disappeared inside the bar.

That's when Emily . . . with a slight jog in her step . . . turned and hurried back down the sidewalk, to her car parked on the adjacent block.

Though the one person that she knew in the vicinity was now gone, this was still a conversation that she preferred to have in complete privacy.

So she quickly unlocked the doors of her sedan and hopped into the driver's seat. And as she was hitting the locks, she was also doing a voice dial for, "Hotch," on her cell phone.

Ten second seconds later she heard a click, and then her man's faintly amused voice on the other end of the line.

"Drunk already? Where am I picking you up?"

Despite her nervousness about what she needed to tell him, Emily couldn't stop her eyes from crinkling.

"That's not why I'm calling hon," she responded with a soft smile, "in fact, at the moment I'm stone cold sober, which is why I'm calling you now before I go into the bar and have a drink. See," she took a deep breath, "the thing is, I have to tell you something that I should have told you before I left but it seemed too silly to mention and now I'm feeling guilty about it and I just don't want you to think I'm keeping any secrets from you."

Okay . . . she rolled her eyes . . . that basically just came out as one big run on sentence. But again, she was kind of nervous, so that was to be expected.

"Hmm," Hotch's brow quirked up, "I'm intrigued. Now what is it that you're feeling guilty about?"

Knowing Emily and her latent, though permanently ingrained, Catholicism, the guilt wave could be coming from literally _anywhere_.

"Okay," Emily bit her lip, "um, well don't get mad but I'm uh," she cleared her throat, "at this dating . . . thing."

"I'm sorry," Hotch blinked and shook his head, "did you just say that you're out on a _DATE_?!"

_How was his girlfriend out on a DATE?! How does THAT happen?!_

"Actually," Emily winced, "I'm going to be on like ten of them. It's speed dating. Garcia decided just today that she wanted to go to it, you know after that big fight she had with Kevin, and we were already going out for a beer anyway and I just couldn't think of any legitimate excuse for backing out of the whole night at the last minute. I mean, she thinks I'm single and available, and it's not like I could tell her the truth about us," Emily's gaze shifted, looking out the windshield at the busy neighborhood, "and I figured it's such a silly little thing, like sixty seconds listening to some strange guy talk to me before he goes away forever, that it seemed totally harmless. But then I got here and I realized that I still should have told you about it before I left. So," she pouted slightly, "are you upset?"

For a moment Hotch was quiet . . . he was trying to process everything that Emily had just said, it was a lot to digest . . . and then he bit his lip.

"No," he shook his head as he responded slowly, "no, I'm not upset. I mean, I'm not," he rolled his eyes, "_happy_ about it obviously, but I'm not upset. I am glad you told me though and," he gave a resigned sigh, "I guess I can see how it would have been awkward trying to come up with a last minute excuse for Penelope."

Then he paused for a second as the whole thing started to really sink in.

"So wait," he made a face, "so you're actually out at this dating thing, _right_ now?"

It was definitely not the same pondering this course of theoretical events in his head . . . and he'd been none too pleased about it in there . . . versus actually PROCESSING that this horrible thing was actually happening. At that MOMENT! His girl, the woman who shared his bed no less than six days a week, who was slowly shifting into the role of stepmother to his son, and definitive mother to any future children he might have . . . was out on a _date_.

With somebody else.

The thought was beginning to leave a very bitter taste in his mouth.

"Okay," Emily straightened up, "I'm coming home. I can hear it in your voice, it's starting to freak you out. And you know," her brow scrunched up, "thinking about it, if our positions were reversed and Dave dragged you to something like this, I would not at ALL be cool with you out pseudo dating a bunch of bimbos while I sat at home working."

"You do realize that you just called yourself a bimbo, right?" Hotch responded drily.

"Well," Emily shook her head, "whatever, you know what I mean. It's not right. And I know that I'd be very _UN_comfortable if you were the one calling me right now."

God, Uncomfortable wouldn't even cover it! Of course she trusted Hotch without question, but . . . she scowled to herself . . . single women over thirty were like JACKALS! And with that pretty face of his, they'd be all over him like a zebra carcass on the plains!

She would have actually had to nail spray tanned hides to her wall.

"No, no," Hotch sighed, "it's fine. You're already there, and like you said, you can't just ditch Garcia. That would be rude. So just go on your," he rolled his eyes, "_dates,_ and I'll see you when you get home."

Though he was still pretty non-plussed about the whole situation, he wasn't going to be THAT guy. The one who was so insecure in his relationship, that he didn't trust his girl out alone for an evening. Because he wasn't insecure.

Not a bit.

He was actually VERY secure in his relationship . . . Emily loved him, no question . . . and he trusted her completely. So he could suck up this . . . his nose scrunched distastefully . . . indignity, for one evening.

If he had to.

Though Emily knew that Hotch was trying to be the bigger person here . . . and she loved him for that . . . she also hated that she was making him uncomfortable. Especially given how supportive he was being about the whole stupid thing.

It made her feel like she was taking advantage of his good nature.

So she was quiet for a second, trying to think of some graceful way to get out of this mess. And then her eyebrows shot up as an idea occurred to her.

"Oh!" she smacked her hand down on the steering wheel, "wait, I know! I'll just tell them the truth! When these guys sit down, I'll just say sorry, I have a boyfriend, I'm just there keeping my friend company. And then we can sit there in awkward silence for the remaining fifty-six seconds of our acquaintance." She pouted slightly, "is that better?"

Hopefully it seemed better to him, because it kind of seemed better to her.

Hotch's lips twitched.

"Yes," he tipped his head, "that is actually MUCH better. Thank you."

The distinction was a big one. This way she no longer would appear to be 'available,' to these jackasses. Now if only she had a RING on her finger, that would have been perfect. But . . . he bit his lip . . . that was a thought for another day.

"Okay," Emily's eyes crinkled as she sighed in relief, "then, that's what I'll do. And we're still planning on going to the club after, so I'll probably be home around ten-thirty'ish."

"All right," Hotch's gaze flicked over to the wall clock, "see you then. And sweetheart," he added with a touch of worry, "be careful with your drink."

Though Emily had spent a few decades maneuvering around the planet prior to his involvement in her life, he couldn't stop how he worried now when she was out without him. But given the things that he had seen, the women who had been abducted time and again after going out for a 'routine' night with friends, his concerns were somewhat understandable.

At least that's what he told himself when he woke up in a cold sweat.

"Oh, trust me hon," Emily hit the locks on the door, "my drink won't be leaving my lap," then she moved to step out of the car, "okay sweetie, have to run now or Garcia's going to think that I really did ditch her. Love you."

Hotch's lip quirked.

"Love you too."

And then he heard the line click and he pulled the phone away from his ear. He stared down at it for a moment. Then he simultaneously rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

_Only Emily._

And then he put down his phone, and picked up his laptop . . . and went back to work.

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_A/N 2: See, as promised, totally different story but you can see shimmers of how the universes are connected. And I'd planned to put the whole thing up at once because it's not super long. But, I've had migraines all week, so I'm kind of tired, and kind of nauseous, and kind of want to go to bed :) So rather than dragging out the posting, I'just put up what I'd finished reading over. The latter half is already done too, I just need to read it for final. Maybe up for Sunday._

_Thanks everyone! And FYI, another update coming along this weekend will be Lonely Hearts. _


	2. Extra Cheese, Hold the Pickles

**Author's Note**: Thank you very much everybody who wrote in for chapter 1 :) Now, the conclusion. Again, if you read the other version of the story, you'll see I went a totally different way here.

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**Extra Cheese, Hold the Pickles**

Hotch was just finishing his signoff of Morgan's most recent case evals, when he heard the distinctive sound of the key scraping in the lock. His brow wrinkled as he looked down at his watch . . . it was just before nine . . . and then he turned to look over his shoulder at the front door opening.

Emily's pretty face was just appearing.

"You're home early," he said by way of greeting.

It had barely been an hour since they'd gotten off the phone.

"Eh," Emily simultaneously rolled her eyes while also turning to shut and lock the door, "I slightly miscalculated just how awful the actual chit chat portion of the evening was going to be. The guys were a bunch of sleazebags, and my, 'I have a boyfriend' line," she shook her head as she started to walk down the hall, "wasn't really shutting them down like I'd thought it would. I only lasted twenty minutes before I faked a stomachache and got the hell out of there."

If only she'd realized how awful it was going to be, she would have just stayed home with Hotch. As it was, it was a totally wasted night. And she was going to remember this in the future when somebody asked her to go do something that didn't sound all that fun to do.

Socializing was for suckers!

Hotch's eyebrow inched up.

"And how did Garcia react to you just taking off?"

"God," Emily rolled her eyes again as she hung her bag off the back of one of the kitchen chairs, "would you believe that before I even decided that I was leaving, that _she_ was already off in the corner texting with Kevin?"

Seeing Hotch's look of surprise, Emily nodded.

"Yeah, turns out, she sat there for like ONE guy! And I didn't realize she wasn't at her table anymore until I started to think about bailing myself." Emily threw her arm up in exasperation, "that's when I saw that she'd already abandoned her station. And when I saw that," she half scowled, "that's when I said screw it, I'm not putting myself through anymore of this crap. I went over and told her I was taking off, and that's when she 'sheepishly,'" Emily made a face, "admitted to being in the middle of her makeup texting with Kevin."

This was the _second_ time in almost as many months that Garcia had had a fight with Kevin, DRAGGED Emily out to do something for a distraction, and then ended up kind of screwing her over to go back to her boyfriend before the 'drag out' event was even over. And it was now time that Emily had a chat with her 'friend' about that, because it was definitely NOT happening again. Yeah, making up with your boyfriend was important, but you don't dump your girlfriend into a shitty situation just because your boyfriend said he was sorry for being a schmuck. They weren't fifteen.

The Kevin texting could have waited an hour.

But anyway . . . Emily blinked and shuddered to shake off her irritation . . . that was now bygones. And she wasn't going to let it affect the rest of her night. So she put her paper bag down on the table, and as slipped her jacket off, she called over to Hotch.

"So anyway, putting that ridiculousness aside," she grinned, "guess what I brought you home as thanks for being so cool about the 'me dating other guys' outing tonight?"

"A brother husband," Hotch responded drily as he looked down to close his laptop. And she started to crack up.

"No!" Emily barked a laugh, "NOT a brother husband!" She picked up the white bag she'd just put down before walking into the living room, "I stopped at your favorite burger place. Got you cheeseburgers," she smiled as she walked up to the couch, "a chili cheese dog, and both kinds of fries."

Sensing a certain degree of disingenuousness in her 'gift' . . . Five Guys was _Emily's_ favorite burger place, not his . . . Hotch eyed her suspiciously.

"Hmm," he reached out to take the bag from her hand, "that certainly sounds like a lot of food. More food really," he poked his head into the crinkly white paper, "than one person could be expected to eat in a single sitting. It's almost like," he looked up with a droll expression, "this was a 'gift' intended for you as well."

Not that he'd actually _needed_ a gift, but COME ON! Emily getting herself a burger from _her_ favorite fast food restaurant, did NOT count as a thank you gift for HIM!

Emily, sensing that she might have dug herself a slight hole there in not really getting him a gift at all . . . and here he was immediately calling her on her bullshit . . . quickly shook her head,.

"Oh no, this is just for you hon. I mean," she tipped her head as she again mentally ran down the half a pound of food sitting in the bag, "if you were to perhaps offer me an, oh I don't know," she waved her hand faux dismissively as she dropped down next to him on the sofa cushion, "a French fry or something, I would probably not say to no to such an offering."

There. Now he would be all sweet Hotch and share one of the burgers . . . like the actual bacon cheeseburger that she'd bought for herself . . . because he was just that kind of guy.

Perfect.

And _she'd_ still look like the big damn hero bringing him home a nice snack that he would be so kindly offering to share with her of his own free will.

Win . . . win!

Hotch stared at Emily for a second before he looked down at the big bag of food in his lap. Then he stuck his hand into the bag, rifled around . . . and pulled out a French fry.

Just one.

Then he turned to reach over and pop it into the half open mouth of the lovely woman sitting next to him on the couch.

"There you go," he smiled, "one French fry, as requested."

"Thanks," Emily mumbled, around the single bite of friend potato.

And then she watched in confusion as Hotch put the bag down on the coffee table, and tore the white paper in half. And as she swallowed down her single fry, he started pulling back the wrappers on the the sandwiches in front of him, trying to see what was what.

"This does look good sweetheart," he shot her a dimple over his shoulder, "thanks."

Two could play at this one.

"Yeah," she gave him a tight smile just before she leaned back against the cushions to start kicking off her boots, "no problem."

And once she'd gotten her boots off, and her bra off . . . it was new and the strap was pinching her shoulder . . . she pulled her legs up under her.

It had been about a minute since she'd sat down. And that minute had consisted of her listening to Hotch noisily chow down . . . seriously, it sounded like he was having sex over there(!) . . . on what was quite clearly the bacon cheeseburger than she'd bought, for HERSELF! How could he do that?! Why wasn't he offering her first pick of everything in the bag?! Why was she not being treated in the queen'like manner to which she'd recently become accustomed?!

What the hell was going on!?

Finally she decided to just let out a very loud, VERY breathy . . . slightly asthmatic . . . sigh, to see if she could get his attention.

And she got it.

Hotch turned his head to look over his shoulder . . . and her gaze narrowed.

There was bacon grease on his chin.

"Did you need something sweetheart?" he asked with a faint eyebrow while wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

"No," her jaw snapped shut, "no, I'm fine."

_I can't believe he's eating my whole damn BACON burger!_

When Hotch turned back to the food, his lips were twitching.

_Yep, she was now having a complete . . . silent . . . fit! _

And he gave that fit another minute. A minute during he finished his consumption of the full HALF of bacon cheeseburger that Emily was OH so impatiently waiting for him to hand over. But once he had it down to an evenly divided portion, he put it down on the wax paper.

Then he picked up a napkin, wiped his face . . . took another one and wiped his hands . . . and then turned to look at the woman coiled up behind him, her eyes now boring a not so subtle hole into his head.

"I know you said that you just wanted the fry, but would you like the other half of this bacon burger Emily? Because it's funny, it's made JUST how you like it. Extra pickles and everything. I," he tipped his head, "on the other hand, prefer no pickles and extra cheese with fried mushrooms with _my _bacon burger. And it's so strange how they mixed up my order with your order," he gave her a pointed look, "it's almost like there isn't anything in here for me at all."

Emily stared back at Hotch for a second, her eyes slowly widening as she realized he knew EXACTLY what she had done. Then she shifted forward, leaned over with one hand on his shoulder . . . and kissed him.

Fortunately he kissed her back.

And when she pulled away, she gave him a little pout of apology.

"Sorry sweetie, I guess that wasn't my best apology gift, huh?"

Yeah, that was maybe kind of douchey not even remembering to get him his favorite meal. Especially given that he really was INCREDIBLY cool about the whole, going out on a date with ten other guys, thing.

Yeah . . . she internally chastised . . . bad girlfriend Emily. Bad, bad girlfriend!

"No," Hotch huffed as he brushed Emily's hair back behind her ear, "it REALLY wasn't. I think where you probably went wrong, was passing off YOUR favorite fast food, as MY favorite fast food," then he added drily, "I was kind of on to you from there. But fortunately," he gave her an indulgent eye roll as he tugged her over to his lap, "I am a forgiving soul, so," he slipped one arm around her waist while with the other he leaned over to pick up the cheeseburger, "here," he handed it to Emily with a faint twitching of his lips, "finish your burger."

Emily bit her lip as she looked down at the cheeseburger in her hand. Then she looked back up at him.

"How about instead," she leaned over to put the burger back on the paper bag, "we pack all the food back up," she looked back at him, "and then go upstairs so I can give you a _proper_, thank you present for being, The Best Boyfriend Ever?"

Hotch's eyebrow inched up.

"Were you going to starch my jeans for me? You know I like that crease."

"Yes," Emily's mouth quivered as she slung her arm around his neck, "I know you like that crease. And no, that wasn't what I was going to do."

She leaned forward to press a kiss to his brow.

"I was thinking," she whispered against his skin, "that maybe we could do that thing that we started doing last month. You know," she leaned back with a smirk, "the one where I get to play with my lollipop."

It had taken a few weeks of them having regular sex, before Hotch was totally comfortable with fellatio. Not that he hadn't enjoyed the actual ACT from the beginning, but for him it was a control thing. And she could always sense the point in the activity where he would start to tense up. And she'd know then that he still wasn't ready yet to completely let go. So she'd stop . . . and then they'd so something else fun.

It was all good either way.

But then a couple weeks ago, out of the blue . . . random Thursday . . . he'd let her finish all the way to the end . . . she'd been so happy. And then he returned the favor, and she was happier still. And since then, they'd kind of been trading off the full enchilada, all the way to the end. But he was ABSOLUTELY due.

More so tonight than even before.

And she could see the little twinkle forming in his eye now.

"Lollipop games, huh?" Hotch's lip quirked up, "I think I could go for some of those."

"Yeah," she grinned, "thought you might like that. So," she waved her hand over at the food on the table, "if you want to pack this up for a bit later, I," she smacked a quick kiss on his lips before shimmying off his lap, "will go upstairs and pretty up." She reached down to press her palm to his cheek.

"Sound good?" she asked with a little smile.

"Yeah," Hotch shot her a dimple, "sounds _very_ good."

And then she hopped up, blowing him a quick kiss before she snagged her bra off the back of the couch, and started up the stairs with a jog.

Hotch waited a second until she'd disappeared before shaking his head as he leaned over to start packing the food back up.

Once that was done, he brought everything into the kitchen where he tucked it into the bottom shelf of the fridge.

They could heat it up in the oven on low.

And then before he headed up to collect his 'gift,' he got himself a quick drink of water out of the tap. He was just rinsing out the glass when he heard Emily calling down from the landing.

"Honey, I'm in your favorite white lace baby doll. Why are you not up here yet to rip it off with your teeth?!"

"I'm coming sweetheart!" he quickly yelled back. "Just got a drink of water!"

His lip quirked up as he walked over to put the glass down in the dish drainer.

_Hmph, cheeseburgers, blow jobs, AND the white lace baby doll! Being 'The Best Boyfriend Ever' really did have its perks._

And with that . . . he took off at a run.

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_A/N 2: I know, I could follow them upstairs, but, I'm not in the right mind frame to write smut (it's a whole focused effort, folks!) so I think we'll call this one a wrap._

_That white lace baby doll was first established as Hotch's favorite over in The Arrangement. And you probably know by now, a fact in one Girl'verse, is of course a fact in all :) If interested, there's a picture of it with the chapter announcement over on my Tumblr._

_Emily's comment about Garcia 'screwing her over' twice, you might recall that from Girl proper. "Horror Movie, Schmorror Movie." And remember on the show when she tried to F over Kevin's transfer by hacking the system? Yeah, that was unbelievable. And creepy AF. And canon! But to that plot point, and the early seasons when she was openly mooning over Derek, I just saw her behavior when it came to men, at this stage, she still seemed somewhat inexperienced in maturely processing her feelings and working through things. And one of the things that comes with experience in all adult interpersonal relationships, is learning to not throw over your girlfriends, for your romantic partners. Some women never learn that lesson. Those women are terrible. But it is obviously not my intention to make Garcia a 'terrible person' in this world, but more that it's something she needs to work on. Because everybody's got something they need to work on, and this is hers. I actually as a side note, enjoy the fact that the Girl'verse is so expansive with so many offshoots that different aspects of people's personalities can be explored in different ways. So, that's that._

_Again, hope everybody enjoyed the show here. Next update anywhere is probably going to be in the Girl'verse reboot. Falling in Love, Again. Though, I do have something I've been working on (off and on for like 2 years :)), that might get pulled together faster. We'll see which horse wins the race._

_Have a good week everyone!_


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